Life, Owen mused, was bloody unfair. Not that the term had applied to him for some time now, he added silently. He'd died weeks earlier, but it had only sort of stuck. He couldn't breathe or heal or shag, but he was still walking and talking and something resembling eating.

And then death seemed ready to strike again. He'd really expected the end. He was now a radioactive puddle. Surely one didn't get deader than that. So why was he still conscious? And how? His brain had melted with the rest of him, so what was doing his thinking now?

Around the world, the attentions of hundreds of millions of people were aimed at their television sets. They watched, enraptured by the spectacle as the prince and his resplendent bride tied the knot.

Somewhere far from any human contact, three figures also watched, but not for the pageantry of the event. They simply waited for the perfect moment, when their desperate plan stood its best chance of success.

As the princess made her vows, the television signal was hijacked; a burst of static resolved into an image from humanity's collective nightmare appeared. "Please," the Silence begged, "please stop killing us."

The bodies were carefully placed in their chairs, propped up like they were still working. With luck, no one would even notice the stab wounds or blunt force traumas. Just to be on the safe side, though, Todd now wore one of those hats with the beer cans on it.

Gupta noticed Madhuri watching him from the hallway. "Come in!" he yelled. "You're late for work!"

The Doctor squatted before the gravestone and closed his eyes. Rose tried to read over his shoulder, but she didn't recognize the name carved into it. After a silent moment, the Doctor opened his eyes, set a small stone on the grave marker, and stood. He took Rose's hand and guided her away.

"Was he an old friend?" she asked.

"Who, him? Yes," he said. "Well, no, not as such. I never met him, myself, but I always felt like we would've been good friends."

House ignored her and pushed his way into the examining room. "Chase, I need you to look at..." He paused in the doorway when he noticed the topless woman sitting on the table. It was only when he stopped staring that he saw Chase on the floor, barely breathing.

House closed the door. "Let me guess. He got so handsy that you just had to knee him?"

"It's not my fault, I swear," she said in a thick Southern drawl. "I told him he needed to use gloves."